


Something Pretty

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Barcelona, FIFA Club World Cup, First Time, Football | Soccer, Kidney Stones, M/M, Neymessi, Oneshot, River Plate, msn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo's unable to control the exasperated smile that comes to his face. "Dani talks a lot of shit for someone who never says anything."</p><p>Neymar's pointy teeth appear as he grins from ear to ear. "I bet he's right, though. I bet people would line up to bid on it and you could make some serious dough." He looks down at the floor, mumbling something under his breath about the "stone of D10S," before he peers up at Leo through his lashes. He looks serious, moving his thumb over Leo's knee, slowly, and when he next speaks, the mirth is gone from his voice. "If you did, would you buy me something pretty?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stillgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillgold/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Stillgold!
> 
> I warned you that January presents were a thing! Xoxox

Leo's so stunned that he doesn't even move.

At that moment, he's not hurt. He's not angry. He's just... numb.

All he can do is blink. He has no other response at all. There are cameras going off all around him, from both the media and fans dying to capture his reaction. The little shutter sounds intersperse with flashes of light, swelling around him until everything's a blur and he can't pick out the person who attacked him. So he just stands there and blinks, even as shoving breaks out a few feet in front of him. 

He can't even take a few steps back when Luis tries to gently push him away, and sways instead, feet rooted to the floor.

He can't process it, can't understand what's just happened. 

It's not until Luis shoves him a little harder, and Masche takes his arm and pulls, that he realizes he's still standing in the corridor. Security has closed in on them, drawing Leo away from where he'd been signing autographs for the crowd, and hands start leading the players down the hallway.

Leo still has someone's pen clenched in his fist.

And someone's saliva dripping down his face.

He lets himself be maneuvered down the hall and around the corner. Masche is glued to his side, gripping his wrist and glowering, chest stuck out to make himself appear larger and daring anyone to approach. Everything's buzzing around them, a mixture of languages as they join the rest of their teammates and the Japanese officials start blocking off the area. But Leo can't bring himself to focus. He can't. He's afraid of what will happen if he starts thinking.

He doesn't know how much time has passed before they stop walking, finally approaching the gate for their plane.

And then Luis is there again, tilting Leo's head up with a light touch on his chin. He looks so strange--eyebrows furrowed, lines on his forehead, lips pressed together seriously as opposed to revealing his familiar grin. There's a flash of teeth as his mouth moves and he says something Leo doesn't catch. 

Leo stares at him, uncomprehending, feeling like he's underwater as he watches Luis' lips. 

Everything's muffled, but the buzzing around them grows louder and Masche's hand tightens on his arm.

"Leo," Luis repeats, louder this time, finally breaking through, as all of a sudden the noise around them surges through Leo's eardrums. "Leo, can you hear me?" He looks behind him and then over Leo's head, his face pained as he snaps his fingers at somebody. "Leo, answer me right now," he hisses, returning his eyes to Leo's.

Leo blinks. "I'm sorry," he says. "I was--I had to--," he starts, before shrugging helplessly, unable to put it into words about why he zoned out. He flicks his eyes to Masche's, knowing that out of all of them, he'll understand. "Someone spit on me," Leo eventually says, as if it isn't real again unless he says it out loud. "I--from River--?" 

He can feel his cheek is still wet. 

He reaches up to touch his face, trying to keep his tone level--keep out the pain he's feeling--not wanting to make a big deal out of something so small... 

By the look on Masche's face, he doesn't succeed.

Then Luis catches his hand, stopping him. 

Geri is there suddenly, looming over all of them, and holding a cloth in his hand. "Look here, Leo," he mutters, turning Leo's face towards his. His hand is gentle as he cleans Leo's skin, even as he curses under his breath. "Fuck all of them," he says angrily. "It's ridiculous, Leo, I fucking hate them all." 

Leo's breath hitches. Because that's the thing. He could never hate them--could never hate his own people. He's tried so hard not to disappoint them, and yet here they are. 

Argentina has lost again. And once more, it's Leo's fault.

Leo doesn't see it, but Masche must elbow Geri, because suddenly Geri falls silent. The anger starts fading from Geri's eyes. He cups Leo's face and smooths a thumb across his cheekbone. "I'm sorry, Leo," Geri says, pulling him into a hug. Leo goes willingly, pressing his face into Geri's chest, inhaling his familiar scent. Masche is still by his side--Luis is too, still holding his hand in fact.

Down the hall, Dani's voice rises sharply. "They did what?!" There's a babble of Portuguese as he and Neymar start shouting angrily before they're hushed.

Leo shuts his eyes and doesn't lift his head. He doesn't really want them to see him like this. Especially Ney... God, he hates that Ney will see him like this... But Leo's so tired of being strong all the time, tired of putting on a brave face for Argentina. 

So tired... 

He loses some time again, zoning out and letting his friends guide him through the lines and onto the plane. There's a hand on his back or an arm around his shoulders, warm bodies surrounding him protectively every step of the way.

He comes back to himself when Luis settles him into a seat by the window. Leo smiles up at him faintly, in thanks, hating that he's making everyone take care of him. They should all be celebrating, riding high from their win and their fifth trophy--and instead Leo's taking away from all that.

But Luis merely smiles back at him, seemingly unbothered by Leo's moodiness. He claps him on the shoulder and steps back into the aisle to let Masche sit down next to Leo. Luis isn't going far, of course, with his own assigned seat just across the aisle.

Leo's about to turn towards the wall of the plane and let his head thunk against the window, but raised voices draw his attention back to the aisle. Neymar and Dani are there, talking heatedly to Masche, who's now standing and crossing his arms, intent on blocking the path. Luis is back in the mix, too, whispering something quietly while pulling on Dani's elbow. 

Leo doesn't have the energy to get involved in whatever is going on, so he turns away, content to let Masche deal with the problem. It's probably not a very captain-like thing to do, but he knows Masche can hold his own. Instead, Leo watches out the window as the last few bags are loaded onto the plane. He frowns when he sees one decorated with a River sticker, and he shuts his eyes as if that'll make him forget it. Around him the flight attendants start preparing the plane for take off, and within a few minutes, they're leaving Japan.

Leo keeps his eyes shut, ignoring the way his stomach twists and then starts to burn as they continue to ascend. After awhile, the plane straightens out, and Leo wearily turns back to ask Masche what was going on before. 

Except it's not Masche sitting beside him.

"So, yeah, I switched with Masche," Neymar says, meeting Leo's gaze cheekily and pulling off his hat to scratch at his head. He replaces the cap immediately when Leo's eyes flick up to see his hat-hair. "Dani said you wouldn't mind." He looks assured, eyes twinkling while a smile plays around his lips. He crosses one of his legs over the other, and then reverses the action, trying to get comfortable. "And *I* thought you wouldn't either." He stretches his foot over and nudges one of Leo's feet, trying to start up a game of footsie.

Leo leans forward and looks around him so he can see across the aisle to where Luis is sitting. He arches an eyebrow at his teammate, wondering what they bribed Masche with to arrange this. 

Luis just shrugs, his toothy smile reappearing as he waves a hand toward Neymar and mouths, "You're welcome." He winks, looking like a little kid who has just pranked one of his friends.

Leo sighs.

Neymar leans forward, too, blocking Leo's sight of Luis. "So, long flight back, huh? You wanna play a game? Or watch a movie? Or take a nap? I brought a shit ton of music, myself." As Leo sits back into his seat, trying to relax, Neymar does too. "Or we could just talk, you know?" 

Leo's face softens, unable to keep up his stony stare at Neymar's earnest tone.

Neymar keeps his foot touching Leo's, but stretches his other leg out in front of him. He weighs the silence when Leo doesn't reply right away. His smile slips a little and he licks his lips, leaning in closer to Leo so they can't be overheard. "That was really shitty what happened at the airport. I'm sorry."

Leo's frown reappears, and he turns his head from where he was staring at Neymar's mouth. He immediately wishes Masche were still beside him.

Masche would know not to talk about this. Masche would be silent and let Leo be silent, too... And if Masche did want to talk about it, he'd understand...

But Neymar... Leo can't talk about this with Neymar.

And maybe Leo's lack of a response says all this, because Neymar reaches out and lets his fingertips lightly touch the back of Leo's hand on the armrest. "Hey. Don't shut me out. Please, Leo... I just had to say that, okay?" His fingers are warm as he strokes Leo's skin, rubbing back and forth over the knuckles and then slightly between Leo's fingers.

Leo finds himself spreading his fingers apart, letting Neymar's fingers catch between his. "Okay," Leo murmurs, looking down to where they're touching. He likes the way Neymar's skin looks against his and he turns his hand over, shivering as Neymar begins to drag the pads of his fingers over Leo's palm.

There's always been this indescribable energy between them, and this moment is no exception.

"You didn't deserve that," Neymar says quietly. His voice is somber, barely able to be heard over the noise around them. He traces the lines on Leo's palm, swirling up and down, back and forth, until Leo folds his thumb over and catches Neymar's hand--unable to stand it any longer. "Nobody deserves that, especially not you." 

Leo shakes his head. "Ney... You don't understand," he says, trying to stay calm. He looks up to meet Neymar's eyes. They've widened at Leo's tone, but they're so warm and kind and beautiful. 

Always beautiful.

"And I hope you never do," Leo continues fervently. He squeezes Neymar's hand, desperately hoping that Neymar never feels like this--that his countrymen never turn on him.

Neymar looks like he's about to object so Leo pulls his hand away and turns slightly towards the window, signaling that he's finished with this conversation. He's not proud of it, but he's tired--so very tired--and frankly, he's aching. He curls in on himself, pressing his hand to his side in an effort to stifle his pain. This pain at least he knows will eventually go away, and it's nothing like it was a few days before. "Please, Ney," he says, gritting his teeth. "Can we talk about something else?"

The seatbelt sign goes off and Neymar moves instantly.

"Fuck, Leo," Neymar says, undoing his belt to come kneel next to Leo's seat. "Can I get you something?" He rests his hand on Leo's knee. "I'll go back and ask for some painkillers."

Leo grunts, shake his head. "I'm not due yet," he says, taking a few deep breaths. "It's okay. Can you just hand me my water?" He's supposed to stay hydrated, but probably isn't doing a very good job.

Neymar sighs and hands Leo the water bottle from the cup holder. "Of course you're fine, Leo." His hand returns to Leo's knee and he pats it soothingly. He pauses for a second, thinking. "Hey, I meant to ask? Like, how much did it hurt passing the stone? Because Dani says they compare that shit to childbirth."

Leo groans a little, meeting Neymar's eyes and handing the water bottle back. "Why were you guys talking about this? It fucking hurt a lot, okay? You saw me at the hotel--I could barely move... It's not so bad now, kinda a stomach ache." He twists in his seat, spreading his legs a bit as he tries to find a position that doesn't bother him.

Neymar returns the bottle to the cup holder and blinks up at him, now between Leo's spread thighs. "Did you keep the stone? Because Dani says we should sell it, you know?" He sits back on his heels, laughing, and then bounces forward and puts both of his hands on Leo's knees. "Dani says we'll make a fortune. He says it's like that's quote from that Will Ferrell movie where you 'wake up in the morning and piss excellence.' Like, we could make a million dollars out of a stone that came out of your dick."

Leo's unable to control the exasperated smile that comes to his face. "Dani talks a lot of shit for someone who never says anything."

Neymar's pointy teeth appear as he grins from ear to ear. "I bet he's right, though. I bet people would line up to bid on it and you could make some serious dough." He looks down at the floor, mumbling something under his breath about the "stone of D10S," before he peers up at Leo through his lashes. He looks serious, moving his thumb over Leo's knee, slowly, and when he next speaks, the mirth is gone from his voice. "If you did, would you buy me something pretty?"

Leo's cheeks heat, feeling Neymar's thumb burning through his track pants.

He clears his throat, mouth going dry. "What would you want, Ney?" he asks, having to look away from Neymar's darkening eyes. He looks down to Neymar's hand, sucking in a breath as it moves off his knee and up his thigh. His heart starts to race and he tries to focus on Neymar's tattoos instead of the way Neymar's hand feels.

There's a layer of fabric between them, but Leo swears it feels like Neymar's touching his skin.

Neymar shrugs at the question, inching forward between Leo's legs until he can't move any closer. His hand continues to wander up Leo's thigh. "Something pretty," he repeats, his other hand beginning to smooth up Leo's other leg. "You always know what I want," he murmurs, and Leo flicks his gaze up just in time to see Neymar lick his lips again.

"Do I?" Leo asks faintly, knowing his flush has spread down his neck and onto his chest. He's breathing heavier now, arousal starting to flood his body, right here on the plane. He should put a stop to this, should reprimand Neymar, should make Neymar switch with Masche immediately. 

Neymar makes a throaty sound. "Mmm," he says, his hands coming to a stop, thumbs pressing down lightly. They're inches from Leo's rapidly hardening cock.

Leo jerks in his seat.

In response, Neymar pulls his hands off Leo entirely. He studies Leo, taking in the dilated eyes, flushed skin, heaving chest. He grins, looking down at the bulge between Leo's legs. "Like, what do you think I want right now, Leo?" he asks, biting his lower lip between his teeth.

Leo gapes at him, beyond words at the moment.

Neymar grins. He leans in close again. "I'll tell you what," he whispers into Leo's ear. His lips brush the lobe and he breathes over Leo's skin to make him shudder. "I'm going to go to the bathroom. And in a few minutes, when you figure out what it is I want, you should probably join me." He noses down against the soft skin on Leo's neck, humming. "Okay?"

Leo shuts his eyes. "Okay," he says, strained. His hands are fists down on the armrests.

His eyes slit open and he tries to calm down, watching as Neymar jauntily stands up and heads down the aisle. When Neymar's out of sight, Leo counts to a hundred in his head. Then he downs the rest of his water, takes a deep breath, and stands up to follow him.

Luis looks over as Leo steps into the aisle. "Feeling better?" he asks. "I knew Ney could cheer you up." He smiles, relieved, tugging an earbud out of his ear.

Leo grins. "He hasn't yet, but he's about to," he says, waving his empty bottle in the direction of the bathroom. Luis looks at him, puzzled, but Leo doesn't feel the need to explain. "I'll be back," he says, starting to walk away. "Bathroom," he calls over his shoulder.

"Oh, Leo, I think that's where Ney is," Luis says to his back as Leo proceeds up the aisle. "Leo? Leo?!"

 

The end

 

P.S. And that's why, whenever Neymar brings up that, why yes, he is a member of the mile-high club, Luis has to leave the room immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> On December 29, 2015, Barcelona beat River Plate 3-0 to win the FIFA Club World Cup. Goals by Lionel Messi (1) and Luis Suárez (2). It was later reported that a disgruntled River Plate fan insulted and spat on Lionel Messi at the airport as FC Barcelona traveled home.


End file.
